


Stalker

by clarissa_writes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crushes, Emotionally constipated Bucky Barnes, F/M, Fluff, Secret Crush, Stalking, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, but not that secret, but the cute kind, he has feelings and he doesn't know how to use them, he's shy okay, like at all, sorta - Freeform, steve is tired, steve the designated keeper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarissa_writes/pseuds/clarissa_writes
Summary: In which Bucky has a crush on the new PR manager and is being an adorable stalker.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 200





	Stalker

“I don’t get it, Peter.”

You shake your head to yourself, staring at the battered laces of your shoes. Honestly, the concentration you’re projecting onto your worn out slip-resistant kicks is enough to burn a damn hole through it. You’re well aware that you look foolish, maybe a bit pathetic keeping your head down like this when there’s a full blown party right in front of you, but does that stop you? Do you take the plunge and go around introducing yourself to new people and having a good time? Do you let loose?

No. No, you do not.

Screw letting loose.

And _why_ , you ask?

Well the answer was simple:

_You’re simply too afraid to look up._

Of course, you are. Who wouldn’t be? No one here could blame you. Hell, should any of them even _try_ to, you’d be the first to jam your fist right into their kisser and ask them _again_ if they could fault you in being terrified. You’d gladly show them a list of why you have every right to be shaking to the bone right now. The damn list would be in alphabetical order, and we’ll see who was in the right.

You would much rather look like an idiot with a neck condition than to look up and meet the steely blue eyes of the Winter Soldier. Those smoldering, ever-narrowed cobalt-grays that _glared_ at you whenever you were in the same room as him. It’s as if he had a radar in his head! He always seemed to know when you came too close within his perimeter. The closest you got to him before triggering that withering come-closer-and-you-will-see-death glare was from a ten feet distance. Ten. Fucking. Feet. He hated you that much.

And because you had shitty luck with shitty circumstances, of course it only got worse from there.

The sad part was that you weren’t exaggerating.

At this point, you should’ve gotten used to it.

Ever since Mr.Stark first introduced you to Mr.Barnes four months ago, he’d stared at you in that menacing way an assassin would his target. Like a wolf to a deer. As if prompting you to a staring contest you would inevitably lose. And the penalty? Oh you know, _death_.

Which is again, why you’re staring down at the ground the whole time.

You know, like a coward.

(Better a coward than dead, you think.)

You don’t know what the hell you did to offend him ~~besides exist~~ , but you do know that he hated you. With a passion that could burn fires for eternity. Or at the very least, hated your face, thus in turn, hating the body it’s attached to. While you had it the worse, being the subject of this seemingly unjustified hatred, poor Steve was left as the mediator more often than not; but even then the most he could do was steer his best friend away with an apologetic smile sent your way. It did little to assure you. The golden smile of justice did nothing for your nerves.

Now as much as he liked to glare at you, there hadn’t been any real suspicion that Barnes was plotting some kind of murderous accident. You liked to think whenever he looked at you like that, he was thinking something not so terribly malicious but still pretty bad.

Probably cursing you out in his head.

Or shooting you. Yes, shooting you seemed reasonable.

You’d tried to befriend him, you really did. Call it dumb, and blame your bleeding heart all you want, but you really did try to ease the tension. (Because everyone in the fucking tower knows Barnes can’t stand you and for some reason it was _very amusing_ to them).You had to at least be on civil terms with everyone on the team since you were now part of their PR team. The first time you were introduced to Bucky he was in the gym with Steve and Sam. They were training ~~boy was the view great~~ and the men were sparring when Mr. Stark called them over to introduce you.

Steve gave you that blinding patriotic smile of justice and you bit your tongue to stop yourself from reciting the Bill of Rights on the spot. Luckily, you managed to greet him without blushing to the shade of his shield. Thank god for those breathing exercises. He really was the American dream. Sweet with a charming smile, just like they say he was.

You’d already met Sam with the others, so with an acknowledging smile sent Sam’s way, you looked to Barnes. Bucky was the only one left you needed to meet. You’d had a run-down of his history, but even if you hadn’t looked him up, you would’ve had some sort of gist on who he was. Unless you were living under a rock or you didn’t own a phone or television, there was no way you didn’t know James “Bucky” Barnes. He had his own chapter in your history books back in school, after all. (And maybe, just _maybe_ , you had a tiny, itsy-bitsy crush on the American hero back when you were fifteen. You had a thing for smirks, and his photos looked good-sue me.)

You’d smiled at him, offered a hand to shake and stayed in that position for three long, agonizing minutes until you accepted the fact _he did not want to shake hands_. Steve had looked at Bucky weirdly, nudging the Soldier to introduce himself but to no avail. Bucky simply stared at you the whole time. And thus, the chain of death-glares and one-sided staring competitions started.

That wasn’t even the worst of it.

Oh, no.

If staring was bad, imagine how much worse it felt when you realized the man followed you around.

You felt him following you around the halls, never saying anything or even trying to hide the fact he was following you. There was always a looming shadow ten steps behind and if you stopped, he stopped. If you stood there for fifteen minutes, guess who was also standing there for fifteen minutes. He never made an attempt to approach you or hide when you would look over your shoulder to stare at him. No, he was too comfortable with the situation and would merely stare right back until you’d sigh, give in, and go on with your day with him still tailing you.

When too many people saw this, Tony caught word and had readily promoted him from Manchurian Candidate to ____’s Shadow. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so eerily close to the truth. Really, it’s gotten so ridiculous that Tony made you a handy-dandy remote with two buttons:

The Steve button and the Steve Isn’t Available So Anyone Else Except You Sam button.

Once you clicked it, Steve (and if not Steve anyone else from the team except well, _Sam_ ) would come find you with the tracker Tony embedded in the remote to effectively _remove_ Barnes away from your vicinity.

To his credit, Barnes wouldn’t put up a fight and let himself be dragged off but he _would_ frown and keep frowning until you couldn’t see him anymore.

Your coworkers noticed the little phenomenon and needless to say you lost quite a few friends since getting on the Winter Soldier’s radar.

For some reason being on his radar must’ve meant you were dangerous.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

You groan, still looking down as you felt **his** gaze intensify. How the fucking hell could you even _feel_ that?? Was the heat of his glare so strong it transcends into spiritual senses? Did he hate you so much that he tapped into his sixth sense to make sure you could feel his hatred even without looking at him?

Christ, you were way too sober for this.

“I don’t think he hates you,”

Peter, a fellow intern, says kindly (you still hear the doubt seeping in his voice),

“He’s just shy.”

You balk at that. It’s so shocking and outrageous that you can’t help but look up and meet Peter’s gaze. Was he barmy? Did someone spike the drinks? Is Peter _okay_?

“Shy?”

You echo in disbelief,

“You’re calling the Winter Soldier who followed me into the women’s lavatories and waited patiently in the stall next to mine until I was finished doing my business _shy_? The same Winter Soldier who waited for me to finish washing my hands before handing me a paper towel to dry them off?”

Peter winced,

“…Socially constipated?”

You moan, shutting your eyes as a whine tore from low in your throat. How much more can you take? You tried to be patient and understanding but it’s really gotten ridiculous. Steve -Bucky’s designated keeper- had spoken to you about Barnes and had felt responsible for what was going on. He tried confining Bucky to the common room and their floors but he always somehow manages to override the system to disappear off and find you. The blonde also let you know that whatever Hydra did to mess with his head was still somewhat lingering, so he was a bit stoic and erm, unversed in the norm of social practices. In other words: The reason Bucky Barnes was stalking you was because he didn’t know how hate you in secret.

It’s comical.

Damn hilarious when you think about it.

You were stalked because Barnes couldn’t comprehend how to properly hate you.

“Maybe I should just transfer to another branch.”

You say finally with a long exhale,

“Pepper offered me a place in media strategy and marketing. It might do me some good there. It’s better than being here, I guess. ”

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt Peter awkwardly pat your shoulder in support. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s probably thinking of how to respond correctly, not that there’s really a way to _correctly_ answer you. So you take his silent support in stride and continue wallowing in self-pity.

Not wanting to be a Debby downer any longer, you tried to push transfer thoughts in the back of your mind and started to converse with Peter. You asked him about his girlfriend of four months, Melissa, in hopes to direct the conversation in a lighter note.

The immediate spark in his eyes when you mentioned her was adorable, it was obvious that he was smitten with the cute barista working in the cantina of the tower. You really were happy for them. Peter was one of the nicest coworkers you had, and hadn’t distanced himself from you when the stalking became a well-known thing. So to say you were glad that he finally nabbed a date with his puppy love which then turned to a solid relationship was an understatement.

“It’s been great, she’s the best. We went to the beach the other day and had a blast. You should totally come with us next time. I know for a fact you two will get along great.”

You smile at his words, nodding as you take a glass of champagne from the platter of a passing waiter. Taking a sip and melting into the sweet taste of the drink, your gaze flickers up when you notice something move in the corner of your eyes.

There he was looking as intimidating as ever, but this time, he wasn’t armed with tactical gear or weapons. No, he was armed in an entirely different way. **Enticingly**. Wearing a crisp white oxford shirt with the first few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Barnes stands tall and imposing in dark dress pants and shiny leather shoes. Blue eyes meet yours and you immediately turn away from him.

The beginnings of what you hope isn’t a blush creeps up your skin in scorching hot waves, and you duck your head lower in hopes to hide the embarrassment nipping at your skin.

Shit. Fuck. Your stalker isn’t supposed to look attractive. He’s not supposed to look, well _, fuckable_.

You worry at your bottom lip and Peter, none the wiser, kept talking about Melissa to fill in the silence. Not that he noticed you weren’t fully immersed in the conversation like he was. To your credit, you do hear bits and pieces of his poetic speech about Melissa’s _beautiful, silky hair_ , tuning in and out of the conversation unwillingly - _distracted_ \- when the same leather shoes you noticed before, steps into your view.

Shit. Fucking shit.

If you weren’t panicking in your head you would’ve heard him call your name.

“______.”

Oh God, oh God, it’s finally happening isn’t it? This is the moment you die, huh? He’s finally had enough of his games and decided to just up and off you. He’s grown tired of this cat and mouse thing you’ve got going on and thought it best to just cut it short. Save himself the time. Probably because he’s heard you were considering transferring, and being the evil donut he is, came to the conclusion that he had to finish you off before you got the chance to escape.

“______.”  
  
But really? Here? At a _party_?? Couldn’t he have picked somewhere else for your impending doom? Like an abandoned hallway or empty storage room? Did it have to happen where there were witnesses? Was this how you were going to go? With an _audience_?

“You have a lover?”

Your head snapped up at the question just in time to see Barnes glaring at Peter. The latter blanched, looking worried and pale as a sheet when the ex-assassin hunched his shoulders forward like some ape posturing for dominance. 

“What?”

You ask dumbly, looking between the men as though you’d conjure an answer from observing them. Barnes doesn’t move though, if anything his glare intensified so much that Peter squeaked.

“You participate in coitus together?”

Your jaw dropped open.

Helpless, and beyond fucking confused, your gaze quickly swept behind the towering soldier, and found Steve looking defeated with his hands covering his face before he dragged them down with an exasperated,

“Gentle Bucky. You’re supposed to ask _gently_.”

The furrow in Barnes’ brows tells you that he doesn’t understand what Steve was trying to say. Hell, you didn’t understand what he was trying to say. You didn’t understand _anything_ about this situation.

“Erm, uh, I have a girlfriend…”

Barnes forgets his momentary confusion and returns his attention to Peter, who still flinched when the ex-assassin narrowed his eyes at him.

“Her name is Melissa!”

He quickly adds when Barnes took a step forward. Frowning, he thinks for a moment before giving him a sharp nod and then tells Peter,

“Leave.”

“P-pardon?”

“Now.”

Peter doesn’t so much as _look_ at you before he’s high tailing it out of there. And to think you were just about to beg him to stay. Maybe not verbally, but you’d plead with your eyes. It’s pointless now though, he’s already disappeared into the mass of spectators curiously watching your exchange.

You blink, opening your mouth to say something when Barnes cuts you off.

“You stimulate me.”

You choke, like, can’t-breathe-cause-I-accidentally-swallowed-air kind of choke, losing control of your muscles and dropping your drink, not caring when the glass shatters at your feet because _what the actual fuck did you just hear_? Steve groans in the background and you swear on everything holy, you hear Tony laugh but you can’t look in their direction right now. Not when Barnes has his face all scrunched up in concentration as he considers his next words carefully.

“You stimulate me.”

He says again, and this time you’re mortified because it’s dead silent, the music is cut off and you’re certain everyone is listening as he tells you this.

“Barnes-”

“Right here.”

Barnes brings his metal hand up to his chest, resting his open palm at the left side, before frowning,

“My heart rate accelerates in your presence. It hurts when I see you, and when I don’t. You’re distracting. Constant physical reactions point me to the direction of attraction. I wish to procreate with you. I wish to eliminate other competition. Particularly, Mark Rivera from logistics-”

There’s a terrified whine buried in the crowd.

“Steve tells me my courting is… wrong. It’s improper to follow you to let you know of my intentions.”

“That was courting?!”

“I’m told I have to disclose my intent and hope for mutual affection. I apologize for my… observations-”

“ _Stalking_.” Sam pipes up.

“…of you. Will you allow me to court you properly this time?”

You stare at him, breathing hard and heavy and a bit awe struck at this turn of events. You were lightheaded, confused, a little ~~a lot~~ relieved he didn’t actually hate you, and maybe it was because you were so startled at all the sudden revelations that you gave him a hesitant nod. You weren’t thinking straight, _obviously_ , you weren’t even sure if you were still lucid at this point, but the startling bright smile Barnes- _Bucky_ gives you, had your breath catching and your heart pounding. 

And when that smile turns into a lopsided grin, you can’t find it in yourself to really regret your answer.

Three years later, with a ring on your finger, you still laugh and tease about the whole ordeal.

Bucky’s quick to shut you up with a kiss though.


End file.
